Lisette sighed and took the note he was still holding and gestured him inside impatiently. She poked her head out into the dining room to see if anyone else was there, then she made a beeline to the buffet table and took the tray and Kate’s note into the kitchen. Setting them down on the counter, she then turned and locked the door again.

She wrote him another note: You can stay in here with me. But you must not let Eby know. You must be quiet.

“Of course,” he said. “I’d like that very much. I’d like to watch you work.” He turned to the only chair in the kitchen, but she grabbed his arm and shook her head, then held up a single finger, telling him to wait.

She disappeared down the hall and came back pulling an old squeaky office chair. She set it by the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen and pointed to it. He obediently sat.

She stood there for a moment, looking from the empty chair by the refrigerator, to him, then back again. She finally threw her hands in the air in frustration, as if she’d just had her own silent argument with someone and lost.

She took the notes she’d just written to the stove, then she burned them one by one.

He watched in amazement as her words went up in smoke.

Where else in the world could such a creature exist? Suddenly, Jack was no longer worried about where he would go when Lost Lake was gone. He was worried about where Lisette would go. Jack had learned to live among people out in that strange noisy world.

But somehow he knew Lisette could only live here.

*   *   *

“Come on, Devin, let’s go!” Kate called when she walked out of the house.

So that is the man in love with Lisette, Kate thought. Jack didn’t say much, and Lisette didn’t say anything at all. This might be interesting to watch, if Kate and Devin were staying longer. Jack seemed kind. He was craggy and athletic, with lines like parentheses around his mouth, as if everything he wanted to say was an afterthought.

“Where are you girls going?” Bulahdeen asked, looking up from her list as Devin ran to the car.

“To the grocery store for Lisette.”

“Mind if I come along?” Bulahdeen asked. “I need to get some things for the party.”

“We don’t mind at all.”

Bulahdeen put her notebook in her purse, then stood stiffly. “Selma, we’re going to the store. I need to get more wine.”

Selma was filing her nails at the next table. “Why do you need so much wine? Doesn’t alcohol interfere with your medication?”

“I don’t take any medication.”

“That explains a lot,” Selma said, blowing emery-board dust off her fingertips.

“Come with us,” Bulahdeen said, shuffling over to her. “It’s for the party.”